


For the Articles

by pianoforeplay



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-31
Updated: 2011-07-31
Packaged: 2017-10-22 01:23:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/232159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pianoforeplay/pseuds/pianoforeplay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen does a photoshoot. Jared really likes the result.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For the Articles

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the salt-burn-porn prompt of 'tight jeans' and initially posted [here](http://pianoforeplay.livejournal.com/27852.html) on 12/1/2009.

Jared's been waiting for this since the minute Jensen first mentioned it.

 _"Just a thing for GQ. Something about fashion, I don't know. A quick interview and photoshoot, no big deal."_

 _"Photoshoot?" Jared had grinned. "Oh, man. Please tell me there'll be some brick pants involved."_

 _"Fuck you, that was like fifteen years ago."_

 _"Which means they're about due for a resurgence. C'mon, man, you could be a trendsetter!"_

And, okay, so Jared knows GQ isn't exactly Tiger Beat and it's unlikely it'll produce anything too horribly incriminating, but Jensen has a _history_ of bad luck when it comes to these things and Jared can't help being a little excited by the prospect of wallpapering Jensen's trailer in the latest batch of embarrassing photographs.

And now here it is.

It's lying on the kitchen counter beside a half empty bottle of water and Jensen's car keys. Robert Downey Jr.'s smirking face graces the cover, the paper slightly glossy with a smattering of thumb prints near the bottom, right by the print announcing, ' _Men of TV talk fashion_ '.

Grinning, Jared glances back over his shoulder, half expecting Jensen to come bounding down the stairs to yank the magazine out of his hands. But, with both dogs outside and Jensen busy upstairs changing or checking his e-mail or whatever it is he's doing, the whole house is eerily silent.

So Jared flips through the first few pages in peace as he wanders into the living room and drops down on the couch, passing a cologne ad and the table of contents, every page bright and crisp under Jared's fingers. It takes some searching to find Jensen's article, but it's there in the back half, immediately following a spread with that kid from _Glee_ , the one with the mohawk.

And Jared-- Jared's prepared for the ridiculous. Brick pants may be reaching, but he's prepared for something equally mockable, something with argyle and pinstripes or a bowler hat and fake cigar, maybe a cane and fur coat. Whatever.

He's not prepared for _this_ :

It's an outside shot, the lighting making it look like either dusk or dawn. And they have him leaning against a wooden fence, head back and one arm outstretched, dressed in a dark button-down shirt that's gaping open at the bottom, the fabric wrinkled and pushed aside to show off the light dusting of hair below Jensen's belly button.

But it's the _jeans_ Jared can't stop staring at. They're tight, tighter than Jensen ever actually wears them, fitted to stretch across his muscled thighs, flaring only down at the calves, bare toes peaking out beyond the cuffs. His legs are bent and spread at the knee and he has the thumb of his left hand hooked in one front pocket, drawing Jared's eyes right to Jensen's crotch.

And _Jesus_.

Jared can feel his own dick swell as he stares, eyes tracing the noticeable bulge in Jensen's jeans. It's prominent enough that Jared can't help wondering if Jensen had been half-hard at the time, if he'd been silently getting off on it, this inherent objectification beneath the thin veil of fashion journalism. Jared wouldn't call Jensen an exhibitionist necessarily, but he's still an actor, still enjoys _performing_. And, as much as he would deny it, still photography is still one facet of it.

Shifting on the couch, Jared spreads his legs wider to make room for his own rapidly growing erection as he takes in his fill of the picture. It's obscene is what it is, Jensen stretched out like that, on _display_ , his shirt hiked up just enough to be scintillating, just enough that Jared aches to reach through the page and push it up higher, trace every line and curve of Jensen's muscled stomach with his tongue as he snaps open that top jeans button and get his hand inside.

He groans at the thought and finally drops one hand to his lap, presses the heel down hard against the line of his dick. The friction is good, but not nearly enough to be satisfying and his hips arch into it, mind still tripping over the thought of peeling Jensen free of those jeans, letting the denim bunch around his thighs as Jared goes down on him, sucks him in deep right there in the open, cool air. Jensen's fingers would curl in his hair and he'd moan like he always does, whisper and grunt Jared's name over and over as he thrust between Jared's lips, fucking Jared's mouth sore.

And he's just imagining the taste of Jensen's come trickling down his throat when he hears a sound by the doorway.

His eyes snap open and he bolts upright, heat curling up his neck as he catches Jensen watching him, arms crossed loosely over his chest and lips twitched into a smirk.

"Hey, don't stop on my account."

 _This_ Jensen's dressed in his regular jeans, not nearly as form-fitting, loose around the thighs and knees and he's wearing one of Jared's old t-shirts, the screen-printed words faded by time and too many trips through the washer. It's quite a contrast to the one in the picture, but no less arousing and Jared's dick gives another pathetic twitch.

"I'm not--" Jared starts, desperately trying to get ahold of himself as he fumbles the magazine in his hands. Another breath and he's calling up every acting trick he can think of, shoving aside the fantasy and pasting on his best shit-eating grin. "Dude, you seen this yet? They got you lookin' like a Playgirl pin-up in here or something'."

Jensen arches an eyebrow. Says, "That right?"

Jared gets that he's being played, is sure Jensen's seen the picture already. Hell, he probably put it on the counter fully anticipating Jared's burning desire to see it.

Taking a step forward, Jensen nods down at the magazine. "Here, lemme see."

Jared hesitates.

It's ridiculous, maybe, all things considered, but Jared actually feels _embarrassed_ by the whole thing. He still has the magazine in his lap, pages strategically arranged to hide the fact that his dick is practically splitting the front of his jeans and Jensen's _looking_ at him, expectant and knowing, and Jared feels fourteen all over again, young and horny and ashamed of getting caught red-handed.

Jensen steps in closer, his foot knocking against Jared's and Jared jolts, tightens his grip on the magazine as Jensen says, "Dude, seriously."

His tone suddenly lacks the teasing edge Jared had been expecting, catching him off-guard just long enough for Jensen to snatch the GQ from his grip, throw it aside and then land heavily in Jared's lap.

Jared grunts at the sudden weight and instinctively lifts his hands to Jensen's sides as Jensen grins down at him and crawls in closer, his knees buried in the cushions at Jared's back, thighs bracketing Jared's waist and ass just-- fuck, his ass rocking and _grinding_ down onto Jared's cock.

" _Jesus_ ," Jared breaths, arching as his hands slide higher up Jensen's sides, gripping tight.

"Too fuckin' easy," Jensen mutters, all playfulness again as he bends down to breathe against Jared's open mouth, one hand wormed between them, feeling down the front of Jared's chest.

Jared tries for a growl, but it doesn't come out that way at all, his voice instead sounding choked and hungry as he slips one hand around to grab Jensen's ass.

"You suck," he says and Jensen laughs against the curve of his jaw, ducks lower to bite at his neck.

"If you're good."

And Jared gives in then, completely, lets his eyes slip shut and head drop back as Jensen rolls his hips forward and sinks his teeth into Jared's skin. The bite isn't hard enough to break the skin, but Jared still can't help a laugh as he slides one hand up under Jensen's shirt, mutters, "Jesus, Jen. Didn't mean it literally."

He can feel Jensen's grin then along with a low rumble of a laugh as he says, "I did," and rises up onto his knees, starts pawing at the top button of Jared's jeans.

Jared's smile falls away on a gasp and his hips buck upward. Jensen's clearly practiced in this, managing to get Jared's jeans open in two seconds flat before pulling Jared's dick free like it's the easiest trick in the world.

"Were you just gonna go at it?" he says, voice low and rushed as he wraps his hand around Jared's cock.

Jared can only manage a groan in reply, the fingers of one hand digging into the meat of Jensen's thigh as he struggles to hold on.

"Hmm?" Jensen continues, squeezes hard enough to make Jared whimper, his hips bucking uselessly under Jensen's weight. "Bet you were just gonna whip it out right here, jerk off and make yourself come. Huh, Jay? Were you gonna blow your load all over my pretty picture?"

Heat prickles up to Jared's cheeks and he shakes his head, bites down on his lip as Jensen's thumb circles the crown of his dick and then up over the slit, spreading the dribble of precome across the tip.

He gets a low chuckle in reply, Jensen's lips brushing over his own and then breathing into him. "Bullshit."

It's suddenly too much then, too much temptation, too much heat and pure _want_ and Jared dives forward, silences Jensen's mocking tone with the thrust of his tongue. It's a sloppy kiss, all tongue and spit, bruising in its intensity. But Jensen doesn't shy away from it, just closes his hand tighter around Jared's dick and opens wide, fighting Jared for dominance every step of the way.

Jared's the one to end it, pulling back with a rough gasp. He feels a little smug as Jensen leans into follow, lips already red and swollen, his eyes dark. Another another flash of heat spikes up Jared's spine and he thrusts his hand down between them, thumb swiftly unhooking the top button of Jensen's jeans.

"My turn," he snarls, working the buttons.

Jensen shudders, leans in so their foreheads touch, and Jared can feel every exhale, every hot brush of air against his cheek as he tries to ignore the heat pooling between his thighs where Jensen's still stroking him.

"C'mon," Jensen says then, half plea and half demand, hips jerking when Jared finally parts the denim enough for Jared to get his hand inside Jensen's boxers.

Jared _does_ growl then, a low sound through his teeth as he watches his hand curl around the shaft, the purpled head of Jensen's cock peeking out from the circle of his fist. "God, Jen," he continues as he squeezes tight, forcing out a pearl of precome from the tip. "So fucking hot. All of you. Just wanna-- God, all the time. Just wanna bend you over and fuck into you."

Jensen answers with a heady moan, his hair tickling Jared's cheek as he crumples forward, struggles to keep his hand working over Jared's dick.

"You'd let me, wouldn't you?" Jared continues, wrist twisting to get a better hold. Jensen's jeans aren't pushed down far enough for Jared to get the best grip and the angle is all wrong, but he doesn't let that deter him any, just drags his thumb down the thick vein beneath, gets his fingers curled around the soft skin of Jensen's balls briefly before circling the shaft again, jerking roughly. "Were you thinkin' of me when they took that picture? Hmm? Thinkin' how good it'd feel to have me in you? Just get you bent over that fence and put my dick in you?"

" _Jesus_ , Jared," Jensen groans, shifting to bring them forehead to forehead again.

Jared nearly goes cross-eyed trying to watch Jensen's face as they jerk each other, focuses on the red of Jensen's parted lips, the flush across his cheeks and dark sweep of eyelashes. When it's too much, he finally closes his eyes, groans as his grip tightens and he starts working faster, feels Jensen shudder and buck into him, both of them struggling to find an impossible rhythm.

"Wanna--" Jared manages, helplessly clinging to the mounting pleasure. "Right now. Wanna just-- wanna fuck you _so hard_. Wanna get inside you, want--"

The last of his sentence is swallowed by Jensen's mouth, muffled by tongue and teeth and a harsh, rough kiss that's just as suddenly gone when Jensen rips away, choking on a whimper as he shatters hot into Jared's hand, thick streams of jizz that cling to skin, cotton and denim.

"God, _yeah_ ," Jared breathes, wringing him through it, hand slick with spunk. "Just like that. _Fuck_ , just like that."

Jensen whines as Jared greedily squeezes out the last few drops, inhales the thick, musky scent of sweat and sex between them. It's familiar by now, but no less intoxicating and Jared holds it in his lungs for a long moment as Jensen pants and moans against him.

He barely notices that Jensen's hand has gone slack until it picks up again, tightening weakly before brushing a thumb over the head, quick and teasing. It rocks a shudder up his spine, makes his own grip fall away, fingers sticky against Jensen's denim-covered thigh as he takes hold.

"Please," he whispers even as he knows there's no real need to beg. Jensen can be an asshole in bed sometimes, can get caught up in teasing Jared brainless, constantly pushing him to the brink before drawing back, dragging out the pleasure so thin that it's damn near torturous.

But this time it's different. He can tell by the way Jensen's looking at him, dark hunger still flickering beneath bone-deep satisfaction. This one will be quick.

It's proven seconds later when Jensen shifts his position, scoots back to get a better angle, his palm brushing over Jared's cockhead with every pass, fingers sliding down to his balls and back up again. His other hand is a brand against the back of Jared's neck, and Jensen never stops watching him, staring into him, gazes locked and breath heavy between them as the heat coils tight, twists and burns and then _breaks_.

Jared almost blacks out from the force of it, body bowing as his eyes slam shut, crying out soundlessly. Jensen's grip is slick then, coating Jared's dick with each slow pull, drawing it out.

He only stops when Jared touches his wrist, slides his hand up to Jared's stomach instead, fingers wet and sticky against bare skin.

"Jesus," Jared manages after a long moment, heart still thudding rapid-fire as Jensen leans into him, grinning. Jared's dick is still hanging out of his pants and he fells spent and sweaty, but his muscles ache in a way that's not at all unpleasant. A low, happy burn beneath his skin.

Jensen brushes a kiss against his neck and murmurs, "So, are you disappointed?"

"Hmm?" Jared replies, brows furrowing in confusion because he's fairly sure that's about the _last_ thing he is at the moment.

"No new blackmail material this time," Jensen says, his hand smoothing down the front of Jared's stomach and hooking over his waist. "Know how much you were lookin' forward to that."

Jared rumbles a laugh and turns his head, catches the corner of Jensen's mouth with his lips. Says, "Think I'll live."

 **end.**


End file.
